


Of the Night

by Kalibear



Series: Stay, Go, Follow [2]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Bucky Barnes Needs a Hug, Bucky Barnes Recovering, Healing, M/M, Music, Panic Attacks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-21
Updated: 2015-07-21
Packaged: 2018-04-10 12:03:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,597
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4391159
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kalibear/pseuds/Kalibear
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bucky coming to terms with something Hydra took from him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Of the Night

**Author's Note:**

> Set before "Stay, Go, Follow" but you can read them in any order.

The first time Bucky caught Steve dancing in the kitchen, he ended up retreating to his room and not coming out for two days. It wasn’t that Steve was that bad, if Bucky had been able to, he definitely would have teased Steve for that little hip shimmy. No, the sight of Steve, headphones on, head bopping as he got a drink had made Bucky smile for a second and he was just about to make some smart-ass quip when it hit him.

Bucky had loved to dance.

And the Winter Soldier hadn’t moved without a singular purpose in seventy years. Everything had been the mission. Every move had been practical, necessary, dictated by his orders and his programming.

He had been told so often that his mind hadn’t been his own that somewhere along the line the fact that his body hadn’t been his own had become the secondary problem.

But now it hit him: he truly had been just a puppet. 

And puppets don’t dance unless made to. 

So he sat in the corner of his dark room, knees up, left arm heavy and limp to his side, head buried in his right elbow and he tried not to panic.

It wasn’t long before Steve came knocking. It didn’t seem like long, anyway. Could have been hours. Steve always knew when Bucky was off, even if his desire to fix things sometimes made it worse.

“Buck? You want breakfast?” Steve called through the closed door. “Bucky?” He knocked gently. “Third time, Buck.”

He knew that he had five minutes. Five minutes to give Steve some sort of response. Five minutes then Steve would ask JARVIS for a check on his vitals. And since he had gone still, that meant five minutes before Steve came in.

“Tell Steve. Protocol five.” Bucky could barely hear himself but Stark’s tech proved true and JARVIS answered in his smooth, comforting tones.

“I have so advised Captain Rogers, James. Per our agreement, I will monitor your vitals and periodically request a verbal response from you.”

“Four.”

“Very well, every four hours for the next twenty-four, I will request that you answer a predetermined question. If you do not respond, provide the correct answer or try to extend your solitude for longer, I must notify one of your teammates and allow them access to your room.”

“Sam.”

“I’ve sent notice to Mr. Wilson and will keep him updated.” 

“JARVIS?”

“Yes, James?”

“Thanks.”

“Of course, James. Of course.” 

Stark had introduced Bucky to JARVIS when he came to the Tower but he hadn’t understood the full functionality of the AI until weeks later. 

 

_“Sergeant Barnes, can you hear me? Sergeant Barnes, you appear to be having a nightmare. You are in the Avengers Tower. You are safe. Sergeant Barnes, can you answer me?”_

_Bucky had come up ready to fight, knife in hand, a knife he didn’t remember hiding. He scanned the room for a body to go with the calm voice before recalling the AI Stark told him about._

_“Not Sergeant.” This voice wasn’t smooth, wasn’t calm. This voice was rough, grating, gravel shaken with broken glass and Bucky didn’t want to claim it as his own._

_“Yes, you are Sergeant James “Bucky” Barnes. Would you like me to call the Captain?”_

_“No. Bucky. Or James, not Sergeant” he unlocked his fingers from the knife and let it fall to the floor, “not Sergeant anymore. And no, no Steve.”_

_“Very well, James. Is there anyone else I can summon for you?”_

_“No!” Bucky knew that he shouted. “No, no, no,” he repeated as he shoved a hand through his hair – the hair, the too-long hair that felt natural and all wrong, all at the same time. “No one. I don’t need- I don’t want to need- no, no one.”_

_“As you wish.”_

_It was odd. Bucky had become so accustom to people trying to help, people trying to fix him since he moved into the Tower that it was this acceptance, this easy acquiescence that served to calm him._

_“Just like that?”_

_“Pardon, James?”_

_“I say no and you don’t go and tattle on me? No alerts going to Steve or Sam or Stark?”_

_“I am programmed to respect the privacy of all of the inhabitants of this Tower. Just because I can monitor what is happening does not mean that I am going to ‘tattle’, as you put it. You are not harming yourself nor others; direct intervention is not required.”_

_“I wake up screaming and grab a knife and you’re not makin’ a big deal ‘bout it?”_

_“It would not be the first time such a thing has occurred in the Tower. Frankly, it is not even the first time a similar incident has occurred this month.”_

_“So what would it take for you to tell someone?”_

_“Direct intervention by the nearest Avenger will be immediately requested in the event of imminent self-harm or harm to others. You can modify the guidelines that will trigger a request for direct intervention provided these guidelines do not conflict with primary protocols.”_

_Bucky picked the knife up and placed it carefully on the desk. Tomorrow he’ll ask Steve to lock it in the weapons safe. Or put it back with its set. Upon closer inspection, it turned out to be one of Stark’s fancy kitchen knives. He walked silently through the elaborate closet (only a few of the shelves and cubbies actually held anything and it was mostly stuff borrowed from Steve.) Soft lights automatically came up in the bathroom as he entered. He didn’t make a sound as he stripped, showered and slipped into a fresh t-shirt and sweats. He dropped his sweaty clothes in the laundry chute. Clean clothes every day and not having to do his own laundry had quickly become some of his favourite things about living in Stark’s Tower._

_Clean and head clearer, he padded back into the dark bedroom._

_“Uh, JARVIS?”_

_“Yes, James?”_

_“Those other guidelines, you got time to sort them out now?”_

_“Certainly, James. It would be my pleasure.”_

 

“James? Can you please provide the response?”

Bucky blinked, not sure how long JARVIS had been talking to him. “What?”

“It has been twenty hours and I need you to tell me the official name of this protocol. Otherwise, as we discussed, I will request intervene-“ 

“Nutty Banana.”

“Thank you, James.” Bucky knew that he was imagining the relief in JARVIS’s voice; had been told by the AI himself that he did not experience such feelings but even the pretence was comforting. “Please note that according to this protocol, I am to remind you to consume at least eight ounces of water at this time.”

“Dunno why I agreed to this molly coddlin’ “ Bucky moved smoothly to stand and walk to the bathroom, no sign that he had spent the majority of a day sitting on the floor, head in his hands or staring into space.

“I believe that we agreed that while Sir would happily repair any damage Captain Rogers may cause while trying to get into the room, he may be tempted to add some upgrades and the risk wasn’t worth it.”

“You work for a mad man, JARVIS.” There was a glass beside the sink, still a bit wet from earlier use. Bucky had no recollection of getting a drink but a hydration reminder was part of the protocol for hour twelve. The need for a piss was confirmation that he had complied.

“You are not the first to make that observation, James. Can I infer from your increased verbosity that you are feeling better?”

“Maybe. Don’t know.” He had been until he started to think about it and now he just wasn’t sure and what was better when everything was so fucked up? Was this just his new normal, hiding in his room needing a fucking robot to remind-

“James, your heart rate has increased dramatically. My apologies if my remarks have caused distress. Mr. Wilson is on premises; should I alert him?”

“What’sa time?”

“It’s 4:45 am.”

“Gonna shower. Maybe sleep. I’ll see Sam in the morning.”

“Very well, James.”

 

 Bucky didn’t sleep. He spent a few hours on the bed with his eyes closed, though, which he counted as good enough even if Steve and Sam would probably disagree. He could hear movement in the hall and pre-empted the request from JARVIS.

“You can let Sam in, JARVIS.” Bucky heard the door open but didn’t bother to look.

“Another bad one, Barnes?” The desk chair creaked as Sam sat.

Bucky nodded without opening his eyes.

“Been a while since the last Nutty Banana episode. You know Steve hates that you call it that but I respect your choice, man; you have to find the funny where you can. Any idea what set this one off?”

“Nothing.”

“You locked yourself in your room for a full day. It was something.”

“Fine. Nothing big.”

“Okay, so I’ll just go let Steve know you’re fine.” Bucky knew it was an idle threat, could hear that Sam hadn’t moved but he couldn’t risk it, couldn’t let Steve know.

“Fuck you, Sam.” He sat up on the bed, leaned against the wall but still avoided looking at Sam. “I went to the kitchen. Steve was dancing.”

“Is he that bad?”

“No, kid’s got a bit of rhythm, actually.” One corner of his mouth kicked up, remembering that little shimmy, Steve’s voice as he sang about haters gonna hate.

“So Steve was dancing, you saw and thought…”

“Bucky loved to dance.”

“Not ‘I loved to dance’?”

“No, Bucky loved to dance. Loved to take a dame out, dance close, see just how close he could get before she said no and that ain’t me anymore.”

“Okay.”

“No! It’s not okay! It’s one more goddamn thing fucking Hydra stole from me! My memories, my arm…seventy fucking years. And every day it feels like I just stumble across one more thing that ain’t mine anymore. Or that’s been twisted, perverted into something I don’t recognize.” The slight tearing sound was audible between Bucky’s panted breaths. They both looked to see one of Stark’s fancy pillows had fallen victim to Bucky’s enhanced strength. “Fuck.”

“I’m pretty sure Stark buys those by the gross. Replacements are probably on their way up now. And stop scowling, I know that’s not the point, Barnes, I’m tryin’ to give myself time to think.” Bucky finally looked over at Sam. He was sitting at the desk, turned to face Bucky, knees braced on the floor, hands clasped between them and his head was down. With a deep breath, he looked up and managed to catch Bucky’s eyes. “Look, man, I’m out of my depth here. If I knew of anyone else remotely qualified to deal with- no, I know you won’t see someone else and after the shit that just went down, I can’t even call that paranoia, that just makes sense. Frankly, we don’t know who we can trust. So I need you to know that I’m tryin’ but I can’t promise anything and I need you to tell me if I fuck up. Seriously, if I suggest something and it doesn’t sound right, tell me. We gotta work this out together.”

“Yeah, I getcha, Sam. The blind leading the fucked up cripple. I really don’t think you can make things worse. I just need a place to start that ain’t hiding in my room like a goddamn six year old.”

“Okay,” Sam took a deep breath, “okay, so how’s stay, go or follow working out for you and Steve?”

“What the fuck does that have to do this?”

“Just go with me here, man.”

“It’s still mostly stay and it always takes me way too fucking long to decide.”

“But?”

“But, uh, it’s good to have the choice? I guess? Like I’m staying because I want to and not because I’m not allowed to leave.”

“Good, good. Okay, so how about we see if we can take something that’s sorta working and adapt it for this problem?”

“Not following ya.”

“Okay, so you caught Steve dancing and you remembered that you- that Bucky loved to dance and that reminded you of all Hydra took?”

“Yeah.”

“What if we took that and applied stay, go or follow to that line of thought?”

“Explain?”

“So you have the thought but before you go Nutty Banana or even in the middle of it, whenever you have mental energy, you decide, you make the decision if you want to stay with the thought, leave it or follow it.” Sam stopped, groping for words. “Like staying with it is you deciding to be sad, be angry, whatever and fair enough, you have a lot to be angry and sad about. There’s nothing wrong with processing those feelings.”

“So I get some time to sob like a baby or murder a few pillows?”

“Maybe we could step away from the word murder but yeah, essentially. And if you want to just go, just drop the thought, choose not to dwell on what Hydra took at that moment, yeah, do that. Do a full Tony Stark and avoid that shit for a while. Let Steve shake his ass and you can go watch TV or somethin’.”

“And follow?”

“Well, here’s where you chase down that particular rabbit. Bucky loved to dance, I don’t think the Winter Solider got many chances to boogie. What do you want to do about it?”

“Like starting over?”

“Yeah, pretty much.”

“Can’t very well sign up for some kiddie dance class, Sam.”

“No, although you know Steve would go with you and Tony would film the whole recital if you did. Nah, that’s getting ahead of yourself. Start with step one: is it actually about dancing or is it about having control over your body in general?”

“I was made into the perfect assassin, muscle control isn’t the problem.”

“I’ve seen you spar with Steve, it’s terrifying but what about just hanging out? What about stretching just to feel yourself move. Do you enjoy your own body, Bucky?” 

“You asking if I-“ Bucky forgot the recent slang but a gesture was enough to get his point across. 

“Fuck, Barnes, get your mind out of the gutter. No, listen, for most of us, dancing is just cutting loose, having fun. Yeah, there’re people who do it for a living and the amount of training and control there is just insane but for most of us, it’s just movin’ because it feels good. Isn’t that what was taken? You weren’t allowed to do anything just because you wanted to, because it felt good, because it was fun.”

“Fun.” Bucky said the word as if it’s from a foreign language, carefully and unsure if he got it right.

“Yes, fun, Barnes. You’re allowed to have it, you know. Now, I’m gonna get us some breakfast and you decide if you want to stay, go or follow this thing. And then we’ll work out what comes next. Okay?” 

Bucky nodded and watched Sam slip out of the room. He could hear a few murmured words in the hall, figured that Steve had been there the whole day, making sure that he met all the protocol milestones. Idly Bucky wondered if there was some sort of gift he could give JARVIS; he didn’t think there was a card for ‘Thank you for reminding me to drink every eight hours and letting my super soldier best friend know that I did so he doesn’t break down the doors of your crazy creator’s Tower.’ With the weird rise in superheroes lately, there might soon be a market, though. Bucky figured that he could talk Stark into getting in on that action. He deliberately didn’t ponder Sam’s question but he had an answer by the time Sam got back with an overflowing tray of breakfast foods.

“I convinced Steve that we didn’t need a whole pig on the tray but he came pretty damn close. And apparently the really crispy bacon is for you and Bad Things will happen if I touch it.”

Bucky didn’t have a reply. It hadn’t occurred to him to be hungry until Sam was back and now he could all but taste the bacon. He slid off the bed and grabbed a plate. He left a single piece of really crispy bacon for Sam but Sam was looking at it like he wasn’t sure if it was an invitation or a trap. Steve must have been elaborate in his threats as Sam just stuck with the sort of crispy bacon. Bucky was actually glad that he had left that single slice because he didn’t remember tasting much of his first place. He settled back with a second loaded with eggs and sausage and the last slice of really crispy bacon. Sam took a sip of coffee and raised an eyebrow, clearly signalling that it was Time to Talk. Now filled with delicious, delicious pig, Bucky decided that he had been good long enough. He ignored Sam in favour of shoving a big chunk of sausage in his mouth.

“Well?”

“What?” The words were just understandable around the bite Bucky was still chewing.

“Stay, go or follow, Barnes. What’s it going to be?”

Bucky kept chewing, looked down at his plate, trying to look like he was selecting his next victim. He kept his voice soft, almost sad as he replied. “Thought you weren’t gonna push, Sam. Thought I got to decide on my own time.”

“Ah, yeah, dude, sorry, you just seemed-“ Sam sat back, obviously worried he had read the whole mood wrong and then Bucky couldn’t help it, he felt that quirk, that small quiver at the corner of his mouth. “You fucker. You’re playin’ me.”

Bucky gave that soft huff that served as laughter at the moment. “You made it easy, Sam. A man’s gotta find the funny where he can, right?”

“Yeah, yeah, use my own words against me, smart ass. So what’s it going to be? Stay, go or follow?”

“Follow.” The words didn’t come easy but they were there. “I’m not gonna be that kid again, the kid who could show a girl a good time on the dance floor but it’s not like time stood still, right? Even if I was still him, it’s not like people are dancin’ the same they did back then. I can be someone new, someone who might like dancin’ or might not. And that’s okay. And you can wipe that stupid grin off your face. You look your kid just took his first step. It’s creepy.” Bucky threw the mangled pillow at Sam, missing on purpose.

“Sorry, sorry, I’m just so proud. Both my little super soldiers making progress on the same day.” Sam pretended to wipe a tear away.

“Whaddya mean, both? What did Stevie do?”

“Steve actually slept last night. He had JARVIS wake him at check-in time but he got a few hours sleep during a full Nutty Banana. He was even in the kitchen, having some coffee when I got here.”

Bucky was shocked. Steve had protested, almost violently, when he had first told him about the protocols that he and JARVIS had come up with. He had tried to get Sam to tell Bucky that it wasn’t healthy, that he couldn’t just lock himself up like that. It had been Barton to point out that no one was making Bucky do it and maybe it was time to let the guy make some choices for himself? That maybe he was sick of people telling him what he had to do. Steve had made a point of sitting outside Bucky’s door, stating that it might be Bucky’s choice to isolate himself but Steve was going to fucking well remind him that he wasn’t alone anymore.

“So do you have an idea of where you’d like to start? You pointed out that classes might not be a good idea right now but we might be able to find an instructor for private lessons-” Sam’s voice trailed off as Bucky shook his head.

“No, no, I don’t think I can have anyone tellin’ me how to move right now. Besides, I have, like, a few decades of music to catch up on? How am I gonna know how I want to dance until I find the right song?” Bucky had meant it as a stalling strategy at first, had panicked at the thought of trying to move without hurting someone but as he spoke he realized that he meant it, that he was curious. It was nice. 

“Good point, Barnes. I’m sure Tony has a Starkplayer or a two laying around. You can take your music everywhere, nowadays.”

Bucky thought about it, thought about headphones and music in his ears and being outside the apartment and not being about to hear what was going on around him and he was shaking his head before Sam even finished. “No, no, maybe later but just here for now. Just where I’m safe.”

“Yup, that works too. You want this to be a solo project or you going to let the team in on this one?”

Bucky didn’t answer right away. He put his empty plate on the desk and helped himself to another cup of coffee. Cradling the hot cup between his hands, dimly registering the difference in feedback from metal and flesh, he thought about exploring almost a century of music on his own. Thought about listening to song after song, trying to figure out what he liked and he thought of Steve. Steve being thrown into this century alone, no anchor and having to figure all this shit out on his own. He thought of Steve, going to bed, worried but determined, trusting Bucky to care for himself (well, trusting JARVIS to remind Bucky to care for himself and Bucky actually doing it) and Steve making a pile of breakfast because he knew Bucky hadn’t eaten and cooking the bacon just the way he liked.

“Steve. Just Steve.”

 “Okay, how about I take all this back to the kitchen and I can send him in? You don’t have to get started today but it might help him to have a project.”

“Yeah, good, okay. Just don’t tell him about the dancin’, okay? He looked- he looked happy. And I don’t wanna take that from him.”

“Sure thing, Barnes. See you later.” As Sam left the room carrying a tray that was considerably lighter but by no means empty, Bucky heard him shout. “Yo, Steve, Barnes is looking for you, man.”

Bucky figured that he could get a start on this music thing. “Uh, JARVIS, I’m gonna assume that Stark has a buncha music somewhere in this Tower?”

“Yes, James. He even has some that may appeal to people besides himself.”

“Could you maybe put together a list or something, something to catch me up on all I, uh, missed? And tell me where Stark keeps his albums.”

“Certainly, James. I have an extensive digital collection and can provide you with music here in your room with no additional equipment. I have compiled a playlist of the top ten selling US singles from 1944 onwards organized both chronologically and by genre. If you would prefer, I can extend the playlist to cover full albums.” 

“Uh, thanks. Um, how long’ll that take me to get through?” 

“That would be approximately 1.70 days of continuous listening for singles and 20.41 days for albums.”

Bucky knew he didn’t have anything better to do and Sam and Steve and everyone kept telling him to be patient but he didn’t want to wait three weeks to find a song he liked. And that’s even if he liked the popular stuff. Well, popular American stuff; with the Internet, everything was so small now and there was so much to explore and how could he do this himself?

“Sam told me that you decided to catch up on 20th century music; I don’t know why you picked me to help. I’m as lost as you are.” Bucky’s head snapped up as Steve came in the room and he could only guess how panicked he looked from the way Steve’s smile slipped from excited to rueful. “Yeah, it’s crazy isn’t it? And everyone has all these ideas about what you should listen to and they don’t understand what it’s like to-“ Steve stopped, gesturing helplessly, unable to articulate the experience of losing so much time.

“To have no foundation, no place to start.” Bucky surprised himself with his answer.

“Yeah, exactly. And the assumptions they all make about what I should like. Tony had his phone out, trying to capture my reaction the first time he played a song with ‘fuck’ in the lyrics.”

“He think you spent the war surrounded by fucking saints?”

“I think Tony’s version of reality only sometimes matches up with what most of us experience. Do you maybe want to start with one of my playlists? JARVIS helped me make a few based on stuff I liked.”

Bucky nodded, thankful he didn’t have to make another decision.

“JARVIS, can you please put on that mellow mix?”

“With pleasure, Captain.”

Unfamiliar music filled the room and Bucky watched as Steve sat in the desk chair. It hadn’t seemed so far away when Sam had sat there. He closed his eyes and leaned his head back, not sure why he still felt uneasy.

“Steve?”

“Yeah, Buck?”

“You ‘member when your ma would work the late shift and we’d take all the blankets and fall asleep on the sofa, listenin’ to the radio?” Steve inhaled sharply and Bucky looked at him, worried he said something wrong. “That happened right?”

“Yeah,” Steve cleared his throat, “I just didn’t, um, expect you to remember.”

“I didn’t know I did until just now.” Bucky tried but he couldn’t focus on what was playing. “Uh, this bed ain’t exactly as comfy as that scratchy horsehair thing your ma had but uh, there’s room? If you don’t wanna stay in that chair.”

“We gotta do this right, then. Wait here.” Steve left the room at a jog and returned a few minutes later carrying a pile of blankets and a plastic bag hanging from one hand. He tossed the bag to Bucky.

“Is this fucking candy?”

“Tony ordered a bunch of retro candy for one movie night. One of his weird ways of trying to make me feel at home. It’s just been sitting in the cupboard since then. Move over, I’m not as little as I use ta be.” 

“It’s hard to miss, Steve.” Bucky grumbled but he couldn’t help but smile a little as he shuffled over on the bed. He was surprised that it didn’t bother him to have Steve between him and the door.

“Shhh, have some candy and listen to this one. I think you’ll like it.” Steve was almost glowing as he arranged the blankets over both of them, loosely in Bucky’s case.  

 

Bucky wasn’t sure when he fell asleep and he had no idea what time it was when he woke. He woke slowly, warm and comfortable. His head was resting on Steve’s shoulder, candy wrappers surrounded them both and a woman was singing about a blackbird.

The first time Bucky caught Steve dancing in the kitchen, he ended up retreating to his room and not coming out for two days. The second day turned out to not be so bad.

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, "Shake it Off" is on Steve's workout playlist.
> 
> The song at the end is Sarah McLachlan's cover of "Blackbird."
> 
> The title is from Bastille's "Of the Night" which I listened to on repeat as I wrote.


End file.
